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The desk at Junon isn’t as grand, and isn't as big as the one in Midgar. To Rufus, it never really mattered. His father was nothing if not obsessed with status. The bigger the desk, the greater the distance from the people he’s talking to. The role of president was meant to be solitary, even if it couldn’t be achieved without people around to bark orders to. A booming voice would speak from behind the desk, and then he’d go back to staring out at the city he’d created with his own two hands.
And, of course, the labors of others.
The office in Junon was much the same. He’d arrived late in the night, and he gazes out at the cannon and ocean from the floor to ceiling windows. He’d spent a lot of time here. Right here in this office, even. For Rufus, this was more home than Midgar was.
But Midgar was his, now. And it had to be taken care of… eventually.
Footsteps bring him out of his thoughts. It’s late, he’s tired, he doesn’t have time for whatever Tseng or some soldier might have to say to him.
“Is it that interesting?”
He recognizes that voice. Glenn Lodbrok. Yet another of the many thorns in his side.
“Not particularly.” See any sight enough and it loses its savor. Everything in Junon was like that. That’s what home meant . A place where you can look out and see the flaws. A place that you can’t help but want to perfect.
A little laugh from behind him, much closer than he was expecting. “That right? You’ve been looking out there for hours. Why don’t you take a break?”
A sigh comes from Rufus. “I’m fine where I am, thank you.”
The lights in Junon were orange, and a lot dimmer than they were in Midgar. The place felt a lot more human in that way. Or… old fashioned. Rufus almost found himself missing the green hue that took the city at night. Made it feel… alive . For more reasons than one.
There’s a touch on his back, firm. Glenn had never thought to touch him before, and Rufus… doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch, doesn’t shy away, he takes it. Stands there, hands behind his back, perfectly still.
“Did you need something?” Rufus asks. He’s feeling a little exasperated, feeling tired of whatever Glenn is up to already. He’s got a lot on his mind, and isn’t particularly fond of being disturbed at the moment.
Another laugh, though more barked than anything. “ Need something? That’s a strong way to put it. If anything, I think you need something.” The hand moves, then, a little more firm, pushing him closer to the window.
It takes a bit of doing, but Rufus does end up taking a few steps forward, moving closer to the window. He moves, then, looking back to look at Glenn. His hands move to stop himself from getting much closer to the glass. Hands are pressed against it, and he clicks his tongue. People come to clean the glass daily, but… he didn’t want handprints on the glass.
“What do you want, Glenn?” He can’t see much of Glenn’s face from here. He’s got that hood up, as well.
There’s a little noise, something similar to a laugh. He’s closer now, close enough to where Rufus can feel the warmth of his body behind him. It’s… not as strong as it would be for anyone else, he thinks. He’s felt Tseng this close behind him. He’s warmer. Glenn, though…
He’s brought out of his thoughts by his voice. “Thought you’d never relax. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you had a rod straight up your back.” There’s a firm touch, up and down the length of his spine. It makes him shiver, just a little.
“Nope. You’re painfully human, after all.”
He knows better than to say Glenn is, too. SOLDIERs, even prototypes, are pretty well known for having forsaken their humanity. Glenn was also last seen dead . Whatever he is… is unnatural.
Rufus closes his eyes, forehead resting against the glass. It was an insult, but the hand on his back felt good. Grounding. Glenn barks another laugh from behind him, just a touch closer this time.
“You really are human, aren’t you? That feel good? Didn’t know the great Shinra President was so touch starved.” The hand keeps moving, up and down. It goes up to his neck, and he feels the warmth of Glenn’s hand against his nape.
It’s a slippery slope. Anything he could think to say dies in his throat once the hand touches bare skin. He pushes, just a little, more into the touch.
And Glenn laughs again, mocking. He opens his eyes again, almost moving to turn around to give him a piece of his mind, but Glenn stops him in his tracks. There’s two hands now, one on his shoulder and one on his waist.
“Come on, we were having fun just a second ago, weren’t we? Loosen up, I didn’t mean anything by it, Mr. President . Didn’t mean to cause offense.”
He’s still tense in Glenn’s grip, but he doesn’t try to move. The vice grip on Rufus lessens little by little until Glenn is certain Rufus won’t turn around. The touch turns soothing, almost caring after that.
“Good. That’s good. Stay just like that.”
The hands move, then. The one on his shoulder moves back to his nape, gentle. The one on his waist moves to his front, moving over his stomach. If he didn’t have so many layers on, it’d likely feel better. Just knowing there’s a hand there, though, makes him close his eyes again. Admiring being touched.
After a moment, Rufus talks again. “Take my coat off.”
Glenn laughs once more. “You’re in no fit state to be giving orders. Take it off yourself. Your hands work, don’t they?”
Rufus sighs, moving, he feels the hands leave him, but he doesn’t turn around. He takes his coat off, throwing it to the side. He hesitates a moment before deciding to unbutton his shirt, too. He makes it quick, untucking the shirt and unbuttoning it. He leaves it on, though.
Rufus leans back onto the window again, just as he was before. Glenn’s hands go back, the one at his nape moving back over his clothed back, then underneath the shirt to touch at his bare skin. It brings a shiver out of him once more. This time, however, Glenn has no smartass comment to make. Good. This is a thousand times better if Glenn keeps his mouth shut.
The other hand goes to his front, touching his bare stomach. He hasn’t felt anyone’s hands on bare skin for a long time. He tries to ignore that they’re Glenn’s hands. It’s impossible, though. They’re not as warm as other peoples’. There’s something about them…
The hand on his stomach trails down, though, dragging him once more out of his thoughts. He feels the hand move over his already half hard cock, though it’s once more covered up by a good amount of layers.
Glenn does this much by himself, though. Deftly moving to unbutton the slacks, hand moving briefly to stroke at Rufus’ cock through his underwear before pulling it out of his clothes entirely.
Rufus makes a soft noise, leaning more against the window before him. He relaxes further as Glenn starts stroking, painfully slow at first. The hand at his nape moves into his hair, gentle at first, but then moves to pull his head back by his hair.
Rufus’ eyes fly open, mouth agape and a loud moan escapes him. Glenn’s mouth is right by his ear now, and he hears the little laugh that escapes him once more.
“That’s right. Just like that. You have to speak up, Mr. President. Don’t be shy, now.”
The hand keeps his head exactly where it is, and he’s pulled taut. He struggles to keep his eyes open as Glenn speeds up his strokes, bringing him close to the brink. With each stroke, more soft noises escape him, and he feels embarrassed. His cheeks are tinged red, mouth still open.
It’s then that Glenn moves just a little closer, and Rufus can feel his cock against his ass. His hands remain on the window, but they curl into loose fists.
“Hurry this along, Glenn.”
Glenn gives a little hum at that. “Always so impatient . That’s a flaw that’ll get you killed, you know.” He slows his strokes against Rufus’ cock, moves at a more leisurely pace now. “Ask nicely. I know you have it in you.”
His eyes struggle to stay open. He can see the light of the stars and moon, outside. The stars are barely visible with all the light pollution. Didn’t matter. Rufus doesn’t say anything at first, and in response, Glenn’s hand stops moving altogether. There’s a strangled noise that escapes Rufus, then.
“Well?”
Rufus takes a breath, then two. A beat of silence. “ Fuck me , Glenn.”
A little huff and Glenn pulls Rufus by the hair off the window, moving to bend him over the desk. It’s all Rufus can do to get his hands out before his face gets slammed into it. Glenn moves over Rufus, bringing his head back down to his ear.
“Now was that so hard?”
Glenn moves to bring Rufus’ pants lower, down to his thighs. He brings a hand to rub at Rufus’ ass, almost gentle. He then moves to scour the drawers of the desk. Third drawer he looks through, he finds what he’s looking for.
“Have this happen often, Mr. President?”
As Glenn moves to put some lube on his fingers, Rufus almost shakes in anticipation. He gives a little huff in response to Glenn’s question, though. He won’t dignify that with an answer.
One finger enters Rufus, and a loud moan escapes him once more. Glenn leans back down, draped across Rufus’ back, right next to his ear again. He pumps the finger in and out, slow.
“Come on, this is no fun if you don’t talk to me.”
Rufus opens his mouth to talk, and right at that moment Glenn finds his prostate, pushing against it. Rufus lets out a loud moan, and hopes nobody but Glenn heard it. The office isn’t soundproof, after all. Glenn seemed pleased, though.
“What was that? Couldn’t quite understand.”
Rufus keens just a little, pushing back against Glenn’s hand. “ More .”
Glenn gives a little click of his tongue, and puts in another finger, bringing them right back against his prostate. “Whatever the good president wishes.”
Rufus’ hips buck back to meet Glenn’s hand. He brings his head to rest against his arms, panting against the desk. He can feel the condensation of his own breath, hot as it is, on the desk. For once, he doesn’t care about his image. He just wants to feel good.
Glenn moves his fingers out of Rufus, then, getting the lube again. Rufus doesn’t know how Glenn does it, he’s still clothed as far as he can tell. He can hear the sound of it, though. Of Glenn preparing himself, hears how his breathing is labored.
Once Glenn’s prepared, Rufus thinks he’s going to fuck him against the desk. Instead, Glenn brings a hand right back to Rufus’ hair, and brings them back to the chair. Glenn sits on it, and Rufus stumbles back onto him.
“Don’t turn around.”
Rufus nods as much as he can against the hand in his hair. Once he does, the hand loosens its grip, moving to scratch lightly instead.
“Didn’t think you were capable of taking orders. I like this side of you, you know. Obedience suits you.”
Rufus gives a little huff, his breathing still a little labored. Glenn manhandles Rufus, then. Moves Rufus to where he can easily take Glenn’s cock. After a moment, Glenn brings Rufus down upon it, settles him down slowly. One hand is on his waist, making sure he doesn’t hurt himself. He didn’t expect Glenn to be the least bit gentle, but it also wouldn’t do for the Shinra President to have a limp. Maybe that’s what he was thinking.
Once he was fully seated, Glenn squeezed at Rufus’ waist, almost bruising. Rufus pants into open air, struggling to keep his eyes open once more. He looks at the orange lights in the office. He feels… full. So damned full .
“Hurry up .”
Glenn gives another click of his tongue, then. He brings both hands to Rufus’ waist, then. Brings him up slowly, and then forces him back down. Rufus lets out a shout at that, hands scrambling for purchase. He brings his hands to the armrests of the chair, knuckles white.
“You want it so bad? Fuck yourself on me,” the hands loosen, then, giving Rufus the freedom to move. It takes a second, and he’s desperate enough to cum that he takes the order. His legs are shaky, and he finds it difficult to get a good rhythm going. Rufus was strong, he had undergone rigorous training to make sure he was fit for the role of president. To ensure he could defend himself, in case no one around him could be trusted.
He uses his arms to try to lift himself up and down, even if they’re shaking, too. He gets exhausted rather quickly, though. Instead of full thrusts, he’s able to make it about halfway. He can hear Glenn behind him, breathing labored. Rufus is getting close, and once Glenn’s cock is at his prostate, he stops trying to thrust, and just grinds on Glenn’s lap. Loud moans leave him. He’s so fucking close , he almost—
“Don’t be selfish, Rufus. Yet another fatal flaw. We’ll get that out of you, yet.”
The hands around Rufus’ waist tighten again, moving Rufus up and down in full thrusts. He can’t help the noises that escape him. He feels limp, and can barely keep up with the pace. From the sound of it, Glenn’s close, too.
One, two, three more full thrusts and Glenn cums inside of Rufus. He’s going to hate that later, but for now Rufus doesn’t mind. It’s then that Rufus brings his hand to his own cock, stroking in time to the pace Glenn set and finishes within a few seconds of Glenn.
Rufus’ body is taut, and for a second, he can barely hear any noises that Glenn is making. He hears the muffled moans coming out of him, feels them against his back, through his body, against every nerve ending.
And then Rufus is limp, leaning back to rest against Glenn’s chest. He can feel the man’s breathing. Something… human . His hands still rest on the arm rest, though they’re loose against it.
One of Glenn’s hands reaches up and scratches at Rufus’ head as one might do to a dog who did well performing a trick. It feels good, so Rufus doesn’t complain.
“Great job, Mr. President . Stellar performance. It’s a shame to have to leave you all alone, but I’m a busy person. Wutai won’t run itself.”
Rufus barely registers the words coming out of Glenn’s mouth. He just nods against the scratching on his head. Rufus’ eyes slip closed. He’s tired. Glenn is warm, and that’s all he can think about.
Glenn pulls his hand away, then. “Don’t get too lonely without me.”
He’s gone in the next instant, and Rufus only knows because he can feel the cold steel against him instead of Glenn’s body.
He’s empty and cold. Those are his last thoughts before he falls asleep upon Junon’s very own throne.